Cafe' Poem by Kewayne Wadley

Our words undressed the thoughts sitting in an petite space.
A thick smooth lather sitting afloat a tiny tan ocean.
Slow sips taken from the mugs that fed our curiosity as we conversed under the fans that swirled above our heads.
Our bodies unconscious as we dared speak the thoughts that lusted in our mind.
As physically, lip prints were left upon our mugs.
A thicket of plaster above our heads.
The smell of espresso embedded in our noses.
We exchanged plates of words as the waiter walked around serving small pastries and small mugs of frothy drinks.
A fair nutrition to stmulate the rule of creation.
The thought of satisfaction as steam rose from the mugs.
Conversation desired more than the atrocious asylum our bodies were left to believe.
A fear suddenly approached of not wanting to say the wrong thing.
A constant tempation as the waiter kept passing, almost demanding that theres more to be said.
The curvature of your face.
The intellect you possess.
The countless amount of wrinkles left inbetween the sheets of our minds.
Constantly tossing and turning creating more folds and indentions.
A last,
Je besoin D'une recharge